AlQuds
by Erica Romar
Summary: After an Israeli Ambassador is mysteriously found dead in Manhattan, Scully and Mulder are sent into investigate. I have a feeling this story will be controversial, as it deals with the conflict between the Israelis and Palestinians.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files. Also this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely a coincidence.

New York City

Saturday, 10:23 a.m.

The Israeli Ambassador to the United Nations, David Levy, was in bed with his young wife in their Manhattan apartment. Sheets covered her except for a mop of dark hair strewn across her fat, luxurious white, satin pillow. The older man got up from the bed and the girl reached for him.

"Don't get up. It's still early," she pleaded. He walked to the bathroom.

"David, come back," she rolled over, onto her back and giggled. The sheets still covered all but her beckoning arms and face.

The man continued into the bathroom and shut the door.

Rachel sat up in bed. She constantly found herself frustrated with her husband. During times like this, he wasn't expressive enough and she felt like he was being rude and ignoring her. However it wasn't just his lack of communication that made her feel isolated from him; she was still young, restless, and playful, while he was serious and focused on his work. The couple appeared to live in two different worlds; her main concern was benefits and other social galas, shopping, and decorating, while he wanted to obtain peace with the Palestinians (as if that could ever be achieved).

She was not Israeli, but a New York Jew, a fifth generation Russian immigrant. After attending prep school, she studied at Princeton University, where she majored in history. While her hot shot lawyer father wanted her to go into law like himself, she was more concerned with the parties that college had to offer, as well as her sorority. After four years of guzzling Michelob Ultras and sleepovers with frat boys, her GPA and LSAT scores were less than satisfactory.

The summer after she graduated, she moved back to her old room in her parents' Manhattan apartment, and began volunteering at her synagogue to ease her boredom. One of the events she volunteered for was a speech advocating Israel by Levy at a local hotel conference room, funded by her temple. When she first met Levy, the diplomat could not stop looking at her. She liked his big, blue, intelligent eyes that gazed into hers, as if he could read her naïve thoughts. He was handsome and dignified.

After taking some time to chat with her after his speech, he asked her out to dinner. Six months later, she announced to her father that instead of becoming a lawyer, she planned to marry one; David Levy, J.D., had proposed.

On the morning that she waited for him in her bed, she wondered what was taking him so long in the restroom. It was odd. She didn't hear anything. Not even the sound of him breathing. She began to investigate by removing the sheet covering her on this humid summer morning and walking over to her closet where she hung her white robe. After fastening the robe belt around her waist, she walked carefully to the master bedroom's bathroom door. Upon opening the door, she let out a shriek that could be heard in the former home of her great-great grandparents all the way over in the Lower-East Side. Laying on the floor, was her husband's lifeless corpse, with Arabic words carved into his silver-haired chest. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see more Arabic words written on the medicine cabinet mirror in blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files. Also this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely a coincidence.

FBI Headquarters

JFK International Airport

NYC

6:00 p.m.

As they exited the airport, Fox Mulder briefed Dana Scully on the case they were about to investigate. It was humid and Scully's red hair felt sticky against her face. She listened intently to her partner, Mulder, explain their task at hand.

"David Levy, Israeli Ambassador to the United Nations was found by his wife on their bathroom floor this morning. There were Arabic words carved into his chest, as well as the same phrase written in blood on the bathroom mirror. A translator at the New York Field Office says they mean "Al-Quds," the Arabic translation for the Holy Land," Mulder explained.

"Was there evidence of anyone entering the house?" Scully asked.

"Not as far as the agents from the field office or the NYPD can tell."

"Hmm..." She saw a yellow cab approaching them and flaged it down. When it stopped, she opened the door and hopped in, followed by Mulder.

The driver was a swarthy-looking middle-aged man. After telling him where to drive to, she looked over at her partner inquisitively. He was opening his brief case so he could continue studying the manila folder describing the case the A.D. Skinner had given him. Mulder had also obsessively studied the contents of this folder in the plane. The thing she admired most about him was his focus. No matter what else was happening in the world around him, he could set all else aside and focus on the task at hand.

When they arrived at the Levy's apartment, they found it blocked off by yellow tape, which announced "DO NOT CROSS" on it. Outside this room stood two NYPD officers keeping guard. Mulder and Scully held up their badgets.

"We're federal agents sent from Washington to investigate the case," Mulder told the officers.

One officer, a large black man who was immaculately groomed looked at their badges with an expression of recognition on his face.

"Mulder and Scully," the immense officer said, "Come in." The tall, lanky man and petite red head entered the apartment. Scully began to look around and noticed the hallway's marble floor and the living room's elaborate chandelier. This chandelier hung over a wooden coffee table surrounded by expensive-looking sofas covered with throw-pillows.

"It certainly is opulent," Scully told Mulder out of the corner of her mouth. Mulder nodded in consensus. They walked through the living room into a hallway. At the end of the hall was an open door, through which, they could see a group of field agents and police officers. One man in a suit, about thirty-years-old, with blonde hair and blue eyes stared at Mulder for a few seconds. Then he nudged his olive-skinned female partner. He whispered into her ear, "It's Spooky Mulder. You ever hear about him at Quanitco?"

"Shhh..." the dark-haired girl reprimanded her partner, her eyes scolding him.

The dark-haired girl looked up at Mulder with her big, brown eyes. "Agents Alvarez and..."

"Thayer," the blonde man interrupted, extending his arm. "We're from the New York Field Office. You must be agents Scully and Mulder."

"Yes," Scully said, while her eyes remained on the bloody corpse lying in the adjacent bathroom.

"No fingerprints. No footprints. The neighbors says they saw no one enter or leave since the Levys came home last night."

Mulder walked around the crime scene and examined everything.

Thayer eventually approached Mulder and asked him, "Any ideas?"

"Levy had a wife, didn't he?" Mulder asked Thayer.

"Yes. Rachel," Thayer answered.

"I want you to bring her to the field office for questioning."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files. Also this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely a coincidence.

FBI Field Office, New York City

Sunday, 1 p.m.

Rachel Levy sat in a dimly lit room in the FBI New York Field office. Sitting across the table from her was a pretty red-head and an attractive brunette man. She could tell Mulder, who was about to interrogate her was no fool. The red-head looked like just another pretty girl in a business suit, but when she spoke, Rachel could tell this woman was no-nonsense.

At the moment, Mulder looked down at paperwork in a manila folder.

"Ms. Levy, I'm very sorry about your husband. Do you have any idea who could have done this to him?" Mulder asked the woman empathetically.

Tears started to well up in Rachel's eyes. "No, I don't."

"Did he have any enemies?"

The brunette 's eyes lit up as she suddenly realized who might have done this to him. "There was a pro-Palestinian Muslim group in Los Angeles."

Rachel reflected on her trip to Los Angeles last year. She remembered arriving at LAX, the bustling airport full of different languages. After leaving the airport, she was immersed by a cool breeze. The summers there were dry as opposed to New York's almost insufferable humidity. David and her dined at the best restaurants in LA, and Rachel took full advantage of the shopping opportunities on Rodeo Drive. Only one event tarnished this perfect trip.

Rachel stared into Mulder's understanding eyes.

"My husband was asked to speak at a conference in Los Angeles last year, a public relations event trying to improve Israel's image. David began his speech and a group of Muslims began to yell at him in Arabic. Security asked them to leave, but they wouldn't so they were arrested."

She remembered the women covered in veils and the swarthy men shouting at her husband.

"They were from some kind of radical pro-Palenstinian group," Rachel continued.

"Did you hear anyone enter or leave your apartment the morning your husband was killed?" the red-head asked Rachel.

"No," I was asleep. "Do you any clues to who might have killed him?"

"No. Both FBI and NYPD forensics teams investigated your apartment and could not find any trace that anyone left or entered and killed him. We also questioned your neighbors and no one saw anyone entering your apartment that morning," Scully stated in an objective tone.

Although she couldn't hear it her voice, Rachel saw the suspicion in Scully's eyes. This woman was convinced that Rachel had to be her husband's killer. On the other hand, Mulder's genuine empathy suggested that he thought Rachel was innocent.

Rachel looked into the red-head's eyes. "I didn't do it," she pleaded.

"I believe you," Mulder said.

"Who do you think could have done this to him?" she asked in agony.

"I assure you, I will do everything in my power to find out," he said.


End file.
